Everything Is Just Fine, Fine, Fine
by CarsasaAllakay
Summary: Takes place in the canon universe, with a few adjustments that I've noted at the beginning of the fic. It's in Spencer's perspective; her feelings regarding Hanna and Caleb together and their beginning family. Will she ever find that person for herself? One-shot.


**_Author's Note: So…that finale was…it just was. I actually kinda liked it, because who else, really, would have or could have been A.D after so many theories and recycled suspects? I mean, did anyone notice how startlingly similar it was to the books' plot? I guess that was intentional, given that the show all along was based on them. I could have done without that very last scene though, the 'full circle' type one, yet it was expected the second her character was introduced, so…anyways, this fanfic is in Spencer's perspective, taking place in a canon universe, but without the events of the finale and without Emison's twins. The time jump of five years in 7B still exists, but time has still moved forward, five more years, as you'll see. I found that Spaleb didn't really get the recognition from the writer's it deserved, after it ended. Everyone just sort of acted like it never existed, aside from a few flimsy comments here or there. And I'd always wondered how Spencer really felt about it all, and about Haleb's elopement and later down the line, as they start their family. (Haleb doesn't struggle to conceive in this universe). Anyways, that's it! Please review and let me know what you think! It makes my day, as a writer!_**

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It was just like Hanna to get pregnant first. She'd always been ahead of the game in everything else (although, now that she thought of it, Spencer wanted to take it back, the expression itself translating into a morbid pun). Hanna was just…she always had some _big news,_ something loud to say, something so _earth shattering_ that it just demanded attention, whenever she opened her _cute little mouth,_ stained with the darkest red, or the hottest pink, depending on the season, or her mood.

Frankly, the woman was more reminiscent of high school Alison than she would ever care to admit, and neither would Spencer, unless she were drunk and bitter. And right now, with a little liqueur in her coffee, she was tipsy (back in her college years, could she ever hold her alcohol, but wow, have times sure changed) and jealous. This envy may very well be petty, or impious, but that didn't stop her from feeling it. Not at all.

"So, I was talking to Mona earlier, and she told me that we were all invited. Obviously. It's our ten year, after all. We gotta go."

The five women were circled around a large table in The Brew, in conversation about, well, anything; they could finally have those stupid and immature guess _-who-asked-me-if-I-had-a-boyfriend-today_ conversations, and those whiny and privileged, _we're-adults-now-and-I-actually-hate-it_ ones, without plotting strategy to cover their asses for some A-related scheme. Spencer wanted to revel in it, _so bad,_ but all she could think about was that _damn cute_ little girl standing next to Hanna.

"I mean, don't you guys want to see who got short changed in the woman slash man department, or who has the most lavish job, or if Principal Hackett finally went crazy, or which swimmer on the Rosewood Sharks swim team is addicted to using steroids? Because at least three of them are Olympic-level. Or so I've heard. Is that true Em?"

Emily shrugged. "Yes. But none are using. Trust me. I knew those girls for years. They wouldn't dare."

"Exactly," Hanna pointed out. " _Knew_ them. You don't know them now. You haven't talked to them in years, right?"

"Well…that's true, but they were good people, Han. _Are."_

Spencer fought the encompassing urge to laugh out loud. Emily Fields would forever be that naive bright-eyed optimist that she once was, but _she_ couldn't be. She'd lost the ability to believe in the good of human beings years and years ago, when all of this 'A' shit started, but then found it again in the one person she'd least expected it from; he was good, he was sweet, he was kind, all of those vomit-inducing attributes of the playwright's lead role, and for a while, a _blissful,_ _unbelievable,_ while, he was _her_ lead role, in the _god damn_ puppet show that was her _fucking life._

She'd thought they were done with torment then, and they were off, living, separately and alone. Hanna was engaged to Jordan, an Australian professor of suavity, and Spencer was falling in love to the tune of Alanis Morissette, with her ex-boyfriend. There was this whole intellectual side of him that she'd like to think _she_ drew out, and their sex wasn't just good. _Oh no,_ it was…it was something else. He'd maul her neck with kisses, the bruises blue for weeks, but then kiss her lips so tenderly; her mouth like an unread novel, begging to be appreciated, in a language so regal and soft, which she knew made no sense but that was how it felt, back then.

Even now, as he bent down to kiss Hanna's cheek, she craved the feeling of his lips on hers, but knew it wouldn't feel the same. She'd still feel such a rush, but she'd be angry at the hyper sensation, because no longer did he _deserve_ to know that he could still reduce her to that. Not if she couldn't do the same to him. And she never would. And clearly _never did,_ at least, not like _her._

Not like Hanna Marin. The girl with the blonde hair and bright blue eyes, who had cheerleader reflexes and the thighs of a runway model. As a woman, she still has all of those things, which pissed Spencer off. She was the quintessential respectable whore that businessmen fall for, and even though Caleb Rivers was and still is the furthest thing from a man in a suit and tie with a large looming desk to sit behind, he still counted, because, in a matter of _weeks,_ he'd fallen in love with her _and_ at seventeen years old.

Most people would and do find their story charming. High school sweethearts find their way back to each other after years of being broken up, after one of them had even gotten engaged, but she just found it incredibly romanticized in cinema. It wasn't real life, was it? _Oh,_ but it was. And in reality, said woman whom was engaged, told her friend that she could date her sweetheart, gave her explicit permission to love him, and then _took him back._ Just when that love could have been something. It was cruel.

"Mommy! Can I get a peanut butter cookie? Daddy said I could! Please?"

Oh, it was so, _so,_ cruel.

Hanna turned to the child standing on her left side and smiled at her, putting pause on their conversation about whether or not Jenna Marshall will make an appearance at the reunion, _and will she be blind this time?_

"I think Daddy forgot one tiny thing when he told you yes, sweetheart." She gave Caleb a pointed stare.

Spencer sighed, trying not to shake her head at the poor man trying in vain not to look like a complete and utter tool in front of his wife, for evidently not remembering this simple, yet crucial, thing about their daughter. _She's allergic to peanuts, idiot._

"Ugh, _sometimes,_ Caleb," Hanna scoffed when the silence continued and her tacit gesture wasn't picked up on.

She turned to their little girl, giving her an exaggerated pout. "You can't eat peanut butter, Veda. You're allergic remember? It makes your skin itch and your throat get puffy."

Veda turned to her father, a glare shadowing the sparkle in her eyes. "You _told_ me I could have one, Daddy, and now I _can't?"_

"I'm sorry, V. I didn't really think about it when you asked." Caleb told the child, ruffling her dark hair that went straight down her back and across her shoulder blades with such precision, it was as if the little girl were destined to be in every shampoo commercial ever made from this day forward, and at only five years old.

Sometimes, like right now, Spencer found herself staring at Veda, taking in all of her features, noting how strikingly similar they were to Caleb's, especially in her face – cheekbones so sharp that they were like miniature knives indenting olive flesh, and the crinkle in the bridge of her nose that appeared whenever she was concentrating, or confused. It was so faint though, that it was almost unnoticeable, that is, to any other eye.

She only saw it on Caleb when he'd been laying on top of her, or on his side against her, and the color of his t-shirt reflected the sun through the windows just right; or when his naked skin enrobed his pulsating muscles as he'd embrace her, and draw delicate shapes against her adolescent chest. So, that was how she knew to look for it in his daughter, and when she found it one day, when Veda was only a month old and giggling up a storm on her knee, it made her heart soar and sink simultaneously, her emotions emulating a cresting ocean wave.

"That's okay. Can I have a chocolate chip one, instead, please?"

Veda's politeness always surprised her. It wasn't like Hanna to say the magic words unprompted, even now, and Caleb seemed to struggle with them, too. It was things like this that made Spencer, no matter how desperate it made her seem for something so far out of reach it was make-believe, think that _she_ was Veda's mother.

The delusion of grandeur could go on for as long as she didn't look directly into the little girl's eyes. The second she did that, it would fade, and reality would come into sharp, lucid focus, with the azure of those shining irises. The degree of blue would change depending on the light of whatever place she was in, so it could be cobalt in one second, against the swirl of cloudy days, and cerulean the next, as the sun peaked out between them to say one quick _hello._ That alone is what made them so startling, but also because staring into them felt like she were staring into the eyes of one of her best friends. There were days she couldn't handle that. And today was one of them.

"Sure," Hanna said, giving Veda a five dollar bill which she promptly took and made a beeline for the front counter without turning back, even as her mother called her name again and again.

Now _that_ was more like Hanna.

"Veda Hope Rivers!" she was scolding now, and this was what made the child turn her head.

Spencer almost laughed. What were they thinking when they named that child? Didn't Hanna understand by now that hope only breeds eternal misery? This little girl most certainly did not. And Veda? It was a miracle little Miss Sultenfuss didn't get made fun of on the playground, if only because kids were in a constant state of confusion whenever she introduced herself, or the teacher did roll call. Why did Caleb allow _that_ to be the name his daughter would be forever stuck with?

"V, hey come on now princess, your Mom was calling you."

Caleb now had a gentle hand on the child's shoulder, and was leading her back to where they all were, three or so feet away.

"Sorry, Daddy."

He rarely called her Veda, and instead went with the moniker _'V'_ which was cute and trendy in its own right, and in that second, she realized for the thousandth and first time, that Caleb let Hanna name their daughter what she wanted, no matter how out of the box, because he _loved her enough._ He loved that woman like crazy, and Spencer respected that, no matter how much it hurt her to.

"You guys. I um, have something to tell you. Better yet, I think I'll let Veda tell you. Princess?"

Veda stood in front of her parents, a big smile lifting those glass cheekbones. "I'm gonna be a big sister! Mommy's having another baby!"

As everyone awed and congratulated the couple, and their little girl, Spencer joined in, and when she hugged Hanna close, she couldn't help but smile softly.

Hanna and Caleb were kismet from the very beginning, and it only intensified when they saw other people. When he was with _her._ No matter how many times Caleb says he doesn't regret being with her, he must, because that was time he missed with his wife, and the mother of his children; every time he told her that, which was too often for a good conscience, he sounded as though he wanted to be apologizing instead. That _killed_ her, so she'd rather him not say anything to her at all, would rather he forget it, forget _them._ That wasn't who he was though.

Spencer sighed, pushing her bangs away from her forehead. The family of three (soon to be four) was back in line, behind five other people. Caleb had one hand in Veda's palm and the other on Hanna's stomach, while Hanna smoothly ordered for all three of them.

"One medium Americano, one small hot chocolate, and one decaf tea, please. Any flavor you have is fine."

Hearing the word _decaf_ leave Hanna's mouth made her insides tighten, and she felt suddenly very anxious at the thought of _not_ being able to have caffeine, when her time came, _if_ it ever came. She'd never been big on the whole kids thing, not even when she'd been in a loving, supportive relationship; granted, the last time, before him, was Toby, and she was in high school, then. Her pregnancy scare in college had done a number on her, and she'd felt overwhelmed with the sacrifices she'd be making, no matter how selfish that sounded. She'd felt like she couldn't handle it, couldn't live with herself, _either way._

Being around the Rivers, she thought: that's what _they_ were now, _a pair,_ a set _,_ like cashmere pyjamas or, as a family, fine china, made her rethink her stance. She loved Veda so, very, much, and hanging out with her honorary niece, listening to her chant childish rhymes as she skipped rope, and called for her _Auntie Spence_ to join in, made her feel something, something _different,_ a pulling in her heart that she'd never felt before, causing her to think about things she's only thought about out of obligation.

Spencer watched the family go back to their seats with their drinks in hand, Veda insisting that she carry her hot chocolate, even though Caleb would've rather held it for her. She was like Hanna that way: stubborn as hell, and it made for some hassling, but their familial dynamic never wavered. The little girl was on her tip toes, blowing towards the lid's flap every few steps. A to-go cup meant less mess if there was a spill, and less cause of injury, since the drink was hot. Hanna was smart to have thought of that, and right now, she stayed readily beside her daughter on one side, holding her own mug. Caleb was on the other. They had her blocked in, were _protecting_ her, as best they could. It was sweet to watch.

Only when they spoke, did she take notice of the person in front of her in the line, and was taken aback with sudden recognition and an intense wistfulness.

"I'll have a small coffee. Black."

She grinned, lightly taking hold of the man's shoulder, burly with the heaviness of a large jacket. When he turned, only to see her face, he chuckled. "Wow."

Spencer signaled to the barista. "I'll pay for his, and I'll take a large one as well. Thank you."

Toby shook his head, his hand now on her upper arm. It was comfortable there, familiar.

"Spence, you don't have to. Seriously."

When he called her by her nickname, his voice was warm and inviting, accompanied by a husky rumble that she could only ever describe as sexy, and still, that same adjective came to mind, with slight mental awkwardness, if only because it had been so long since she'd thought of him at all, let alone like _that._ As though she were still the straight-laced prep school girl with a little crush on the morose teen with a supposed dark side.

"No, I want to. I can spare a few dollars. I'm only a broke student part time," she laughed, and he laughed too.

When they were given their coffees, he suggested that they sit and catch up, because he had time, and for once so did she. She figured the group wouldn't mind her absence too much, as they were all immersed in conversation, largely surrounding Veda and her beginning kindergarten in the fall, and new Baby Rivers.

When Toby grabbed for her hand, it was an easy movement, like it was something he _just did_ normally, all the time, and without even thinking about it first. She found that her reciprocation was the exact same, and it was in that second, laughing at some story he was telling about his construction crew and hammering failures, when she looked straight into his eyes, that she knew two things: that his eyes were the most expressive part of him – her favorite – and that she'd finally come home again, to her safe place to land, after flying aimlessly for so long.

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 ** _Author's Note: I'm not 100 percent sold on this one, but I never really re-read it too much, because it was just this thing that came into my head and I wanted to get it down as it was, to have Spencer's voice be as I'd thought it to be, without any adjustments…so did that work in my favor? Maybe not, there could be typos or grammatical things but oh well! Also, I'm kinda bummed that Spoby never got their cute moment in the finale after that showdown between Toby and A.D. and I really thought they deserved it too, so maybe I'll write it. The perks of being a writer, unestablished, but still. Hahaha. Remember to review after reading! Thanks!_**


End file.
